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Maria hated that she and Harry no longer lived in the same building. Dangerous things happened in Darrow sometimes, and she had felt safer having him close by, just like she had with Ree and Cassie when they had lived at Candlewood. But she hadn't mentioned this to Harry, even though a part of her really wanted to. The Nook was a nice place that had belonged to his friends. It wouldn't be fair for her to guilt-trip him about it.
Harry's new address sucked for another reason: it was almost impossible to show up to a boy's house looking cute after trekking through the countryside on an eighty degree day. Her skin was sticky and shiny from perspiration and sun lotion, and mostly bare in denim shorts and a warm orange cami.
It was a good thing she'd brought a bottle of water.
As she walked, a strange feeling of anxiety crept up on her. Noises in the distance made her jump and she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. Her pace quickened, more concerned with getting to Harry as quickly as possible than she was with keeping her dignity.
Maria wasn't far from The Nook when she saw it. At first glance she thought it was a piece of plastic torn from a shopping bag, blown there by the wind, but as she knelt down on the grass she saw what it really was. A thin layer of dry skin, about the size and shape of person's forearm. She picked it up and it disintegrated in the blink of an eye. Panic rising in her chest, she clambered back up to her feet, running a few steps before stopping again as she saw another, this time in the unmistakable shape of a hand.
They were here. Or at least one of them was. Skins. That was the name they called themselves. A group of enemy aliens who had made a one way trip to Earth wearing living environmental suits which allowed them to survive Earth's atmosphere and blend in among humans. But after a few decades, these 'human suits' had started to decline, the layers of 'skin' drying out and peeling off.
Tess—of all people—had saved the lives of her friends, of everyone in Roswell, possibly of the entire world, by killing the Skins. But while they may have been in Maria's past, Darrow didn't always follow the rules of past, present, and future.
Harry was in danger. She was in danger. Darrow was in danger.
She ran, calling out Harry's name as the house came into view.
Harry's new address sucked for another reason: it was almost impossible to show up to a boy's house looking cute after trekking through the countryside on an eighty degree day. Her skin was sticky and shiny from perspiration and sun lotion, and mostly bare in denim shorts and a warm orange cami.
It was a good thing she'd brought a bottle of water.
As she walked, a strange feeling of anxiety crept up on her. Noises in the distance made her jump and she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. Her pace quickened, more concerned with getting to Harry as quickly as possible than she was with keeping her dignity.
Maria wasn't far from The Nook when she saw it. At first glance she thought it was a piece of plastic torn from a shopping bag, blown there by the wind, but as she knelt down on the grass she saw what it really was. A thin layer of dry skin, about the size and shape of person's forearm. She picked it up and it disintegrated in the blink of an eye. Panic rising in her chest, she clambered back up to her feet, running a few steps before stopping again as she saw another, this time in the unmistakable shape of a hand.
They were here. Or at least one of them was. Skins. That was the name they called themselves. A group of enemy aliens who had made a one way trip to Earth wearing living environmental suits which allowed them to survive Earth's atmosphere and blend in among humans. But after a few decades, these 'human suits' had started to decline, the layers of 'skin' drying out and peeling off.
Tess—of all people—had saved the lives of her friends, of everyone in Roswell, possibly of the entire world, by killing the Skins. But while they may have been in Maria's past, Darrow didn't always follow the rules of past, present, and future.
Harry was in danger. She was in danger. Darrow was in danger.
She ran, calling out Harry's name as the house came into view.
i was nineteen
Friday, February 5th, 2016 11:35 am"I love you, too!"
"I'm so glad you could make it!"
"I'll call you tomorrow!"
"I'm so glad you could make it!"
"I'll call you tomorrow!"
Her hands and arms filled with presents, her stomach filled with garlic bread, and her mind only slightly tipsy from two glasses of sangria, Maria stood outside the restaurant, thanking her friends for coming as they got into their cars or walked around the corner to catch the next bus.
Candlewood Apartments wasn't too far from the restaurant. It hardly seemed worth the wait or the cost of a cab or bus. Besides, she was buzzing with joy and energy from being around her friends and from all the love they had shown her with the presents and simply by being there to celebrate her special day. She wasn't quite ready for the night to end and a walk seemed like a nice idea, even if there was no more pretty snow to look at.
Maria looked around to see if there was anyone else who might be going her way, when she saw Harry.
"Hey, neighbor, are you walking? Wanna help the birthday girl carry all her presents home?"
read what i'm feeling
Saturday, May 30th, 2015 12:02 amDuring lunch break, Maria usually sat with Anita and Nikitha, two loud, bubbly Darrowian girls in the junior class who had happily included her as their third wheel. The three of them could talk excitedly together about the cute new clothes at Darrow Mall or debate over which boys at school were the cutest, but Maria knew that she would never be truly close to them. Any direct mention she made of her life before Darrow made Anita and Nikitha uncomfortable. She would always feel like the odd one out
'At least it beats eating alone.'
But as the lunch bell rang on Thursday, Maria sent off texts to both of them saying that she urgently needed to go to the library to study for a test. It wasn't a complete lie. She did need to study. The only way it was a lie was that she had no actual intention of studying.
She was worried about Ree.
Maria had tried calling Ree multiple times that morning to ask if she wanted to come downstairs to share a special 'homemade by Maria DeLuca' apple crumble with cinnamon ice-cream. Maria knew that there were a number of reasons why Ree might not be able to answer her phone or reply to Maria's text messages. Perhaps her phone was broken or lost. Perhaps Ree was busy. But old habits die hard, and an unanswered phone for Maria had come to mean that a friend was likely in serious danger.
She sat at a desk in the back of the library, staring down at her phone, mentally arguing with herself about whether or not to fake sick or lie about a doctor's appointment in order to leave school and check that Ree was safe.
'At least it beats eating alone.'
But as the lunch bell rang on Thursday, Maria sent off texts to both of them saying that she urgently needed to go to the library to study for a test. It wasn't a complete lie. She did need to study. The only way it was a lie was that she had no actual intention of studying.
She was worried about Ree.
Maria had tried calling Ree multiple times that morning to ask if she wanted to come downstairs to share a special 'homemade by Maria DeLuca' apple crumble with cinnamon ice-cream. Maria knew that there were a number of reasons why Ree might not be able to answer her phone or reply to Maria's text messages. Perhaps her phone was broken or lost. Perhaps Ree was busy. But old habits die hard, and an unanswered phone for Maria had come to mean that a friend was likely in serious danger.
She sat at a desk in the back of the library, staring down at her phone, mentally arguing with herself about whether or not to fake sick or lie about a doctor's appointment in order to leave school and check that Ree was safe.
she cries your name
Sunday, April 12th, 2015 12:51 amIt had been almost a week since the stones had been destroyed, and life in Darrow seemed to have returned to a period of relative normality. Maria had spent the evening doing housework, before getting comfy on the living room sofa, with the intention of reading the next chapter of her biology textbook... only to get distracted by The Sound of Music playing on TV.
'Oh, well. It won't be the first time I show up for biology on a Thursday without having done the reading.'
"So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, goodnight," she sang softly to herself as she turned off the television and headed toward her bedroom, almost tripping over her guitar on the way. She was almost at the door when she stopped. Through the beaded curtain hanging in the doorway, she could see a guitar on her bed. She looked behind her... there was her guitar, the one she had bought at On the Downbeat last December, lying on the floor. Her head whipped back around. The mystery guitar was still there. It hadn't been there a few hours ago.
Slowly, her heart racing, Maria drew back the curtain and made her way over to the bed. She was still a few feet away when she recognised it, her hands flying up to cover her mouth as she gasped.
It was Alex's acoustic six-string. The one his parents had given her after his funeral.
Maria had heard stories about things from 'home' finding their way to Darrow - it was how Ree had ended up with her shotgun - but nothing could have prepared Maria for this. Part of her felt angry that the guitar had been 'touched' by whatever power controlled what came and went from the city, but part of her was grateful beyond words to have it with her again.
It made sense, a cruel sense, and whoever or whatever had done this must have known. Maria knew what the date was, she had been aware of it all day long. April 29th, 2001, at approximately 10pm. That was when Alex had died. For Maria, it hadn't even been a whole year since that night.
She ran her fingers gently along the wooden body, checking if it was real, before lifting it up and cradling it in her arms, almost as if it were Alex himself. She cried quietly for a while, never loosening her grip on the instrument, until she reached a point where the tears stopped, at least for a while, long enough for her to be able to take her phone out of her pocket and call the one person in Darrow she felt she could talk to about this.
"Ree? Are you home?"
'Oh, well. It won't be the first time I show up for biology on a Thursday without having done the reading.'
"So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, goodnight," she sang softly to herself as she turned off the television and headed toward her bedroom, almost tripping over her guitar on the way. She was almost at the door when she stopped. Through the beaded curtain hanging in the doorway, she could see a guitar on her bed. She looked behind her... there was her guitar, the one she had bought at On the Downbeat last December, lying on the floor. Her head whipped back around. The mystery guitar was still there. It hadn't been there a few hours ago.
Slowly, her heart racing, Maria drew back the curtain and made her way over to the bed. She was still a few feet away when she recognised it, her hands flying up to cover her mouth as she gasped.
It was Alex's acoustic six-string. The one his parents had given her after his funeral.
Maria had heard stories about things from 'home' finding their way to Darrow - it was how Ree had ended up with her shotgun - but nothing could have prepared Maria for this. Part of her felt angry that the guitar had been 'touched' by whatever power controlled what came and went from the city, but part of her was grateful beyond words to have it with her again.
It made sense, a cruel sense, and whoever or whatever had done this must have known. Maria knew what the date was, she had been aware of it all day long. April 29th, 2001, at approximately 10pm. That was when Alex had died. For Maria, it hadn't even been a whole year since that night.
She ran her fingers gently along the wooden body, checking if it was real, before lifting it up and cradling it in her arms, almost as if it were Alex himself. She cried quietly for a while, never loosening her grip on the instrument, until she reached a point where the tears stopped, at least for a while, long enough for her to be able to take her phone out of her pocket and call the one person in Darrow she felt she could talk to about this.
"Ree? Are you home?"
actions measure true feeling
Saturday, November 8th, 2014 04:03 amJust when Maria had actually sort of started to like being in Darrow, everything had gone to hell.
Friday had started out perfectly normal. She'd caught the bus to work and chatted pleasantly with her boss as they prepared the shop for opening. Then her boss had disappeared. Literally disappeared. Maria had run outside and found it similarly empty. She walked quickly from street to street, heading in the direction of her apartment building, spotting only a few people along the way who, from a distance, all looked similarly confused.
Maria didn't know how normal this sort thing was here. Her plan had been to lock herself in her apartment and wait it out. But it was now Monday and, according to the news, most of the city's population was still missing. She was beginning to worry that they might never come back.
But her biggest concern right now was food. And toilet paper. And soap. 'How was I supposed to know I'd need to stock up on these things!?'
She was beginning to realize that she would probably have to leave Candlewood eventually. But maybe she didn't have to go out alone? Maybe she could find someone else in the apartment building and they could go out together? Better yet, maybe she wouldn't have to leave the building at all? Maybe she would find someone who had enough supplies to share until everything went back to normal?
Maria grabbed a cardboard box and filled it will most of what she had left. Pasta, cheese, batteries - anything she thought she might be able to trade or share. She went from door to door, working her way up from the second floor to the third floor and so on. A few front doors were already open, and it didn't seem as if anyone was inside. It crossed her mind to enter, have a look around, but she decided not to, at least not yet.
'I need people,' she thought, putting down the heavy box to give her arms a break, 'Not even friends necessarily, but a team, like I used to have. I'm not Miss Independent, as much as I might try to be. There's safety in numbers. I need people I can go to when there's trouble. I need people I can trust. I need people who would drop everything to help me, and I would drop everything to help them.'
She knocked on the door to apartment 6A and waited. She knocked again. Still no luck. Hope was dwindling, but she wasn't ready to give up just yet. She knocked on the door to 6B.
Friday had started out perfectly normal. She'd caught the bus to work and chatted pleasantly with her boss as they prepared the shop for opening. Then her boss had disappeared. Literally disappeared. Maria had run outside and found it similarly empty. She walked quickly from street to street, heading in the direction of her apartment building, spotting only a few people along the way who, from a distance, all looked similarly confused.
Maria didn't know how normal this sort thing was here. Her plan had been to lock herself in her apartment and wait it out. But it was now Monday and, according to the news, most of the city's population was still missing. She was beginning to worry that they might never come back.
But her biggest concern right now was food. And toilet paper. And soap. 'How was I supposed to know I'd need to stock up on these things!?'
She was beginning to realize that she would probably have to leave Candlewood eventually. But maybe she didn't have to go out alone? Maybe she could find someone else in the apartment building and they could go out together? Better yet, maybe she wouldn't have to leave the building at all? Maybe she would find someone who had enough supplies to share until everything went back to normal?
Maria grabbed a cardboard box and filled it will most of what she had left. Pasta, cheese, batteries - anything she thought she might be able to trade or share. She went from door to door, working her way up from the second floor to the third floor and so on. A few front doors were already open, and it didn't seem as if anyone was inside. It crossed her mind to enter, have a look around, but she decided not to, at least not yet.
'I need people,' she thought, putting down the heavy box to give her arms a break, 'Not even friends necessarily, but a team, like I used to have. I'm not Miss Independent, as much as I might try to be. There's safety in numbers. I need people I can go to when there's trouble. I need people I can trust. I need people who would drop everything to help me, and I would drop everything to help them.'
She knocked on the door to apartment 6A and waited. She knocked again. Still no luck. Hope was dwindling, but she wasn't ready to give up just yet. She knocked on the door to 6B.